


We'll Begin Again

by Alexicon



Series: harry potter works [14]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen, Humor, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 8,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexicon/pseuds/Alexicon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets from a universe in which Hermione, Neville, Harry, and Ron are the Founders reincarnated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Year– The Train Ride

“We’ll have to use our new names, of course,” Hermione said. “That should make the experience complete.”

“And it’ll keep suspicions off of us,” Harry pointed out mildly.

“Oh, they wouldn’t be suspicious,” Hermione brushed off, huffing. “You’re very well-known, after all, Sa– Harry.”

“Oh, yes, because it’s not like people who’ve known each other for years would ever suspect terrible things of them and drive them out and try to kill them,” Harry reminded her somewhat maliciously. The three others winced.

“To be fair,” Ron ventured, “you did hide a basilisk in the school that we never found.”

“If you all hadn’t kicked me out whilst in the middle of casting safety charms on her, she wouldn’t have been any more dangerous to the students than any potentially clumsy animal.”

“‘She’,” Ron muttered disbelievingly. “That monster was female.”

“Oh, honestly, ‘monster’,” Harry huffed, sounding scarily like Hermione. Neville and Ron traded looks. “She was nothing more than a baby. She could barely say anything more than ‘hungry’.”

Ron, Neville, and Hermione all avoided each other's gazes pointedly. Harry pretended not to notice. “Well, anyway, I’ve forgotten your new name, Helga dear– what is it again?” Harry asked innocently. Neville’s wand hand twitched toward his pocket.

“My name is Neville Longbottom now,” he said, enunciating each word dangerously. “And you are a bastard, Salazar Slytherin.”


	2. Birth

Once upon a time, there was a baby who was named Harry Potter. Like all babies would be, he was very confused when his mother started calling him ‘HareBear’, but in his case, it was even more understandable than most cases. This was because he distinctly recalled that his name had been Salazar Slytherin, and he wasn't sure but he thought he might have been reincarnated.

The language his parents insisted upon speaking to him was called English, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to learn it. It was, apparently, the language into which his own had mutated over time.


	3. Second Year

“Okay, small problem,” Harry blurted out uncomfortably. “It turns out Neidr can say a bit more than just ‘hungry’ now!”

"Who's Neidr?" Hermione asked absently.

"You know, the basilisk?"

The others turned to him slowly.

“Are you saying that thing is still alive?” Neville growled. Harry laughed hysterically.

“Also a problem, it seems her vocabulary has extended only into the murderous range!”

“ ** _What_**.” It was incredible how they all managed to chorus this in three distinctly different tones.


	4. Second Year

Ron dropped a battered book on the table. “Do you know what this is?” he demanded.

Harry took one look at it and growled, “Motherfucker.” Neville started and stared at him.

“Harry!” Hermione cried, shocked. “Language!”

“Sorry, Hermione,” Harry groaned, passing a hand over his face.

“Where did you learn that kind of language?” she asked.

“My uncle,” he lied without batting an eye. “You know, the Muggle one that kept me locked in a cupboard for seven years.” Hermione made an uncomfortable little noise at that. “More importantly, that thing's a Horcrux, also known as ‘miniature bastion of evil’,” he continued, gesturing at the book. “You should destroy it as soon as you get past the wards that prevent Fiendfyre. Where did you find it?”

“Ginny’s been writing in it,” Ron said weakly, looking rather queasy. He didn’t quite know what a Horcrux was, but if Salazar’s memories told him it was bad, it was very, very bad and should probably be dealt with by running away screaming.

Harry hoped that his face wasn’t showing how utterly horrified he was at the thought of someone writing in the cursed thing.


	5. First Year– Train Ride

“You know, we should try to be Sorted into each other’s Houses,” Hermione suggested, excited. The others screwed up their faces.

“Why in bloody hell would we do that?” Ron asked.

“Language, Godric,” she chided absently. “For diversity! We should explore how life as the other students is experienced.”

“We’d be doing that for the first time in our own Houses, too,” Neville pointed out. “We were never our own students, remember?”

“Speak for yourself,” Hermione sniffed, who had gone through an uncomfortable time-travel experience where she realised that she had been the student whom she had utterly despised for being insufferably smug the year before. “Anyway, I think it’d be clever. What do you think?”

The others exchanged glances. “No,” Harry summed up their opinions in a simple word. She pouted and glanced out the window.


	6. Third Year

Harry woke suddenly in the middle of the night and scrabbled for his mirror. “Ronald Weasley,” he enunciated clearly, and waited for Ron’s groggy face to appear in the surface.

“What?” Ron growled.

“Do you think they relaxed the animagus alert ward?” Harry said without preamble.

“What?” Ron groaned. “Maybe. We had one of those?”

“Of course we did,” Harry scoffed.

“Wards wasn’t exactly my subject,” Ron half-apologised.

“No, apparently not,” Harry agreed. “Do you think they messed with any other wards beside the obvious?”

“I don’t even know what the obvious are, but probably. Why do you ask?”

Harry pursed his lips and explained, “There’s a dog which doesn’t act like a dog and I keep seeing him on the grounds.”

Ron let his head drop to his pillow. “Yes, that sounds very odd. You should investigate.”

Harry grinned. “Oh, I will. Thanks for helping me with this.”

Ron’s head popped up again. “Why am I always the one you call in the middle of the night with your revelations and brain-problems?” he asked petulantly. Harry shrugged.

“It’s either you or I build a golem to bounce ideas off of, and you didn’t much like my last one.”

“Yeah, no, that was creepy,” Ron said. “Don’t do that.” He sighed. “I guess just bring me something to wake me up tomorrow morning and I’ll be happy.”

“Don’t I always?” Harry grinned charmingly. Ron scoffed loudly and let the mirror go blank again without replying.


	7. First Year

“It’s interesting,” Harry said. He leaned back and waved his hand to indicate himself. “I have the body, mind, and soul of Harry Potter, but I also happen to remember the life of Salazar Slytherin. The question is, what makes up a man? Is it his body or is it his thoughts and memories? By one argument, I am Harry Potter with Salazar Slytherin’s memories injected into my own– and by the other, I am both Harry Potter and Salazar Slytherin, incarnate in me.”

Hermione’s eyes were lit up so brightly Harry wondered vaguely if she was trying to send him a Legilimentic message.

“Oi,” Ron interrupted. “Can we quit the philosophy for the night? I’d like to sleep at some point.” Hermione smiled distractedly, already off in her head pondering Harry's point. Harry and Neville grinned at each other.

“I’m surprised you know the word ‘philosophy’, Ron,” Harry teased gently.


	8. Snippets

Harry stormed up to Ron and shoved the damned sword into his arms. Glaring, he waited for Ron to realize what it was. Ron looked at the sword incredulously. “Is this–”

“Your sword,” Harry growled, “yes.”

* * *

“Could you stay behind, Harry?” Dumbledore asked. “I’d like a word.”

“Can Ron stay behind as well?” Harry responded. “ _I’d_ like some moral support.” Dumbledore and Ron both gave him strange looks.

“I killed a basilisk today,” Harry added, ostensibly explaining why he needed moral support. Ron's face came over understanding and he nodded.

* * *

“Only a person who truly shows the trait of bravery may wield this sword,” Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. “How very Gryffindor of you, my dear boy.”

Ron snorted, the Sorting Hat started giggling, and Harry sneered. “Don’t insult me, sir.”

* * *

"If they had known you were a powerful wizard that was prejudiced against Muggles, they probably would have treated you better," Hermione said, smiling sheepishly.

"Hermione," Harry said, exasperated. "If they had known I was powerful and hated them absolutely, they would have strangled me in my sleep."

* * *

"Ronald Weasley," Harry said seriously. "You were the light at the end of my tunnel. The least you could do is let me buy you a proper wand."

* * *

Draco stared at the angrily muttering Hermione blankly. "Does she always do that?" he asked curiously.

"Ummm," Neville hummed, examining his irritated friend. "Yes, I would say so."

* * *

Harry screwed up his face. "Is there a Statute of Limitations on things you did a thousand years ago?"

* * *

“The best part about this era is that you don’t have to thread your own wands anymore,” Harry said gleefully. “Isn’t that great?”

“It is pretty fantastic,” Hermione admitted. “A man just sells one to you. So much easier.”


	9. First Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/6733343?show_comments=true#comments) which was, well, inspiring. this is from “I would love to know how they react to harry/salazar's descendent being the one who tried to kill him”.

“All right, so this Voldemort fellow is your descendent?” Neville asked, looking irritated.

“It’s possible,” replied Harry uncomfortably. “It’s been a thousand years, I can’t imagine anyone actually wants to trace their lineage back that far.”

Ron scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? Don’t you sleep in the same dormitory as that Malfoy git? Haven’t you heard him go off about his ancestral heritage or whatever?”

“No, we’re in different rooms,” said Harry. “And I’m not sure about that last part. I tend to tune him out whenever he starts getting that self-important tone in his voice, it’s a very useful habit.”

“Right,” said Neville, who had been forced to endure too many social events with the Malfoys in attendance. “But, priorities. Mad descendent trying to kill you? Remember him?”

“Vaguely,” Harry said honestly. “He was very ugly.”

“Oh,” Neville clammed up. “Um.”

“What Neville’s trying to say is that there might be some weird inheritance magic you could invoke against him,” explained Ron, with one of his flashes of insight.

“No, not when it’s been so long,” answered Harry. “Trust me, I’ve already thought of that.”

Hermione dropped a pile of books on the table. “What are we talking about?” she asked after the echoes of her stack impacting the table had stopped assaulting the ears of their fellow students.

“Voldemort, and his relations to me,” Harry told her lazily.

“Ah,” said Hermione. “Well, he claims to be, and nothing I’ve seen refutes it. I don’t see why it would matter, though. The relevant bit is that he speaks Parseltongue, which I’ve only really heard you speak, Harry. What’s it like to have conversations with other Parselmouths? Is it similar to speaking with snakes or is there a difference between the language as humans speak it and the language as snakes speak it?”

“I honestly have no idea, Hermione,” Harry groaned. “I’ll ask Voldemort about it if the subject ever comes up, shall I?”

“Don’t _joke_ about that, Harry.”


	10. Horcrux Hunt (various years)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/6733343?show_comments=true#comments) which was inspiring. this is from “how do they feel about destroying their own possessions (like ravenclaw's diadem)?” I took this to mean 'the Horcrux which JKR implied corresponded with them' in Ron's case.

**_the cup:_**  
Neville stabs the cup himself with a vicious snarl. There is no room in his heart for something so poisoned.

**_the diadem:_**  
Rowena had died cursing the diadem and its effects on others. If she had had the thing in her hands at her deathbed, she would have spent her last breath setting it alight. Now, however, she is not dying, and she and Helena watch as it burns, forgiveness coming from both mother and daughter.

**_the locket:_**  
The last time Salazar saw the locket, it was around his dead wife’s neck as they buried her. He doesn’t know which of his descendants unearthed her for some petty little prize, but he curses their existence nevertheless. Harry has the thing out of Sirius’ cabinet and stabbed by one of his venom-infused knives almost before he realises it’s a Horcrux.

**_the boy:_**  
Ron watches as Harry falls. There is nothing left in the world but anger. There is red and black and Ron kills more Death Eaters than he even sees before him. He is not calm again (he will never be calm when his friend is dead) until Harry comes to him after the battle, whispering assurances and pressing Ron’s fingers to the pulse at his wrist.


	11. First Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/6733343?show_comments=true#comments) which was inspiring. this is from “does hermione/rowena ever chat with the ghost of her daughter?” the real answer is 'yes, they have tea once a fortnight (or hermione does, and helena shows up to chat)' but this is how it begins. again. (sorry)

It takes weeks and an entrapment curse to track Helena down, but Hermione finally manages it five days before Halloween.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me,” Hermione says sharply, pinning Helena with a gimlet eye.

“I can’t imagine why that would be,” mutters Helena, floating as close to the ground as possible in what passed as defensive behaviour in ghosts.

“Neither can I,” says Hermione, then rolls her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s _sake_ , Helena, it’s been a thousand years. You can’t _still_ be angry that I never let you wear the diadem, especially after it turns out I was clearly right about how it would only cause trouble for you.”

“I don’t know why you think that would be better, you’re even more intolerable when you're right,” Helena grumbles, then relents. “And anyway, I’m not angry at you, Mama. I had assumed you were angry with me.”

“And that’s why you were avoiding me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Hermione says frankly. “You’re meant to be clever, Helena, can’t you see I’ve forgiven you?”

“Yes,” says Helena, face twisting up as though she’s about to cry, “I think I can.”

Hermione dispels the trap quickly and holds her arm in an awkward pose surrounding the space where Helena floats. Helena attempts to hug back and Hermione shivers at the arms passing through her shoulders.

They both laugh, even if it comes out more like a sob.


	12. First Year– The Sorting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/6733343?show_comments=true#comments) which was inspiring. this is a combination between “did they each sort into their own houses as they planned, or did the sorting hat decide to play tricks and place them all in gryffindor to match canon?” and “did the sorting hat miss godric/ron?”

Hermione and Neville were sorted into their houses fairly quickly, which was why Harry was so upset when he sat up there arguing with the hat for a good five minutes.

“I am not brave in the _slightest_. I think you need your enchantments checked, Hat.”

“The Sorting Hat is always right,” the Sorting Hat said pompously, “and I see bravery in you, Mr. Potter. You would do well in Gryffindor.”

For a moment, Harry was almost tempted. Life would be easier if he were a Gryffindor...and being in the same House as Ron wouldn’t exactly be torture...but he was not a man (well, boy, now) who took the easy path. His determination firmed up.

“Put me where I belong, Hat.”

The Hat sighed, but obligingly shouted, “SLYTHERIN!” for the entire room to hear.

There was applause from everywhere, but especially from the Slytherin table, who looked shocked and pleased to a one.

Ron walked up to the Hat casually and grinned at McGonagall as the brim sank over his eyes.

“Ronald Weasley, eh?” said the Hat. “It’s been too long, my friend.”

“Sorry about that,” replied Ron. “I didn’t have much control over it. How’s life been?”

“Spiffing,” the Hat told him, amused. “I could use a good cleaning spell, though. There’s a cleanliness ward, but it just doesn’t feel the same.”

“Of course,” Ron said, and cast a silent spell by laying a hand against his wand comfortably.

“Ah, that’s much better,” the Hat sighed. “It’s been lovely hearing so many minds over the years. I’ve heard so many fascinating things, you have no idea.”

“And I never will, thanks to the privacy spells laid on you,” said Ron, amused. “Now, come on. We can catch up later. What House am I going to?”

“Why, GRYFFINDOR! ...of course,” declared the Hat.


	13. Third Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/6733343?show_comments=true#comments) which was inspiring. this is from “does dumbledore know who they are?”

“There is something odd about you, my dear boy,” said Dumbledore, smiling down at him. This was a fair statement, as Harry and Fawkes were currently sitting on the floor having a staring contest over a piece of charcoal.

“There are worse things to be,” Harry replied distractedly. His hand suddenly snaked out to snatch the bit of charcoal. “Ha! I won.”

Fawkes gave him an unimpressed look and turned his head to preen his feathers, as though he had never taken part in this nonsense.

“Do you believe you will you ever tell me what it is?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry gazed at him with level eyes and a straight, firm mouth. “I don’t think so, sir,” he said finally. “I think you know enough about me to be getting on with. You know that I’m Harry Potter.”

“Yes, I do,” agreed Dumbledore, smiling mildly. “That seems to be fair, Harry.”

Fawkes squawked out a triumphant caw. The phoenix had managed to grab the charcoal piece from Harry’s hand whilst he was distracted. Harry let out a loud burst of laughter in response, and Dumbledore grinned to himself.


	14. Fourth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [another comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12317546?show_comments=true#comments) and wow. this is from “harry was perceived to be at a disadvantage because he was three years younger than the other champions. but here, he is the reincarnation of a founder, with all of the magical knowledge accrued in his previous life. how does this alter his performance in the tournament? does harry/slytherin have injokes with the others about how secretly it's the other champions who are at the severe disadvantage?”

Cedric knew more about Potter than the other champions, but he didn’t honestly know enough to explain all of Potter’s oddities to the relatively normal witch and wizard.

“He’s really clever,” said Cedric, one time he attempted it. “If he’s giving you advice, you should probably take it. Why, what did he say?”

“He said to look up fireproofing vards,” said Krum, bewildered. Cedric made a mental note to do that also, just in case.

“Look, I doubt he meant to insult you,” Cedric placated, another time. “Is it really supposed to be a secret?”

“If my _maman_ found out I had brought my longknife to the Tournament,” hissed Fleur, “she would _lecture me_.”

“Really?” asked Cedric doubtfully. “Lecture you? That’s all?”

“Oh, I suppose you think that’s unimpressive? Very well; I shall brew Polyjuice Potion and you will take my place the next time she lectures me. We will see how unimpressive it is after that,” she ranted, eyes glaring daggers into Cedric’s head.

“You would brew a Restricted potion for a _month_ just to prove a point to me?” Cedric gaped.

“ _Yes_ ,” Fleur gritted out.

Cedric nodded, impressed. “I can respect that.”

Meanwhile, Harry and Neville were dueling in the Room of Requirements.

“Trying to soften me up for your champion?” Harry joked, barely out of breath.

Neville shrugged, somehow managing to incorporate the motion into a chain of spells. “Have to give him an advantage somehow,” he grunted. “You should be pleased, my next plan was to drug you with one of Snape’s Befuddlement Draughts.”

“I _am_ pleased,” agreed Harry. “If only because Befuddlement Draughts only make the drinker angry and reckless, and they don’t usually affect me very much. I think you’re looking for a _Confusing_ Draught, which would probably have the result you desire.”

“Thanks,” said Neville dryly, whipping a string of fire at Harry. “I can always count on you working against yourself in an effort to prove how brilliant you are.”

“At your service,” Harry said, taking a deep bow and using his momentum to drop to the ground and throw a spell at Neville’s feet. Neville toppled over and his wand flew to Harry’s hand.

“That was most enjoyable,” Harry told Neville with a smirk as he pulled Neville to his feet. “We should do this more often.”

Neville grinned. “Go again?” he asked. Harry agreed cheerfully.


	15. First Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [another comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12317546?show_comments=true#comments) and wow. this is from “does anyone (besides dumbledore) ever get suspicious??”

It was Ron’s fault, of course. He couldn’t resist calling Harry ‘Sally’ to bother him, as he had when they were older. Hermione covered it up quickly by saying it was a reference to some film or other, but Snape didn’t seem to believe her. That was fair, as Ron hadn’t seen a single film in _either_ of his lives. Snape watched them like a particularly vicious hawk; however, he’d already been suspicious in their first Potions class, when not only had Harry answered his question, but Ron Weasley answered the next one.

Actually, most suspicions were because of Ron, but it mostly wasn’t his fault (as that slip-up was). Harry and Hermione were blank slates to the wizarding world, having no established family who raised them to believe one thing or another, so it was natural that they have odd opinions. Neville, well. Everyone knew about his parents, and everyone had met Augusta Longbottom (and most of them even escaped from her, lucky creatures). His personality being a bit off was to be expected, with that history. But Ron? The Weasleys were a very well-known family. There had been at least one of them in the school every year since Bill’s first year in 1982. Ron was just one brother amongst many--except that he wasn’t. Ron was different, somehow. He had the maturity of his oldest brother even as he slipped the twins ideas for tricks to play.

Everyone knew the Weasleys, but no one knew Ron but his closest friends. And that was odd, to a staff who had known Weasleys for at least ten years.

The teachers watched all four of them, but Ron and Harry in particular.


	16. First Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [another comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12317546?show_comments=true#comments) and wow. this is a combination between “we have now four BEST FRIENDS in four different houses. do they ever just snicker to themselves when they're heralded as "LOOK AT THIS INTERHOUSE FRIENDSHIP. LOOK HOW GREAT IT IS. WHY CAN'T THE REST OF YOU DO THAT. THE FOUNDERS WOULD BE PROUD OF THESE KIDS”” and “so you know that thing where people sometimes accidentally out themselves to people because they can't resist making a sly joke or pun about how not straight they are? who makes the sly jokes and puns about being the founders”

McGonagall said it to Ron first, but Harry was in earshot because apparently she was proud of Ron’s friendship with a Slytherin despite all the history and the influence from generations of Gryffindors in Ron’s family. Her phrasing, however, was ambiguous, so Harry answered her while Ron stared at his Head of House in stunned silence.

“It’s been hard, overcoming all these prejudices against Gryffindors, professors, but you and Professor Snape provide such a _wonderful_ example to us students. I can’t imagine why we wouldn’t follow it,” Harry told her, smiling serenely.

Ron’s eyes shot open wide and his head whipped around to face Harry.

“I’m glad we could inspire you so,” McGonagall dryly. “And I’ve noticed you have a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff in Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom. Quite the collection you have, Mr. Potter.”

“We’re all very good friends,” Harry informed her, genuinely honest (for once).

Her eyes danced above her glasses. “I think the Founders would be very proud of you and your friends, boys,” McGonagall said, with an approving note in her voice.

“I know _we’re_ proud of ourselves, Professor,” said Harry in his most earnest tone. Ron squeaked, then collapsed toward him and buried his face into Harry’s robes, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

McGonagall shook her head with a small smile on her face and walked away as Harry patted Ron on the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Ron gasped, red-faced and nearly crying from the effort used not to make noises in front of McGonagall.

“But the Founders would be _proud_ of us, Ron!” Harry repeated with bright, innocent eyes. Ron descended into giggles again, and Harry broke character to join him this time.


	17. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [another comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12317546?show_comments=true#comments) and wow. this is from “do they ever get pissy about changes to the school? not just the wards, as in chapter 6, but like, policy. if so, do they just have a bitchfest between them, or do they try to do something about it? how does this affect umbridge's regime?”

“I’m going to kill her,” Ron fumed. “I’m actually going to kill her. Do they allow wizards not of age to call out older witches?”

“Calm down, Ron, duels are too obvious. We ought to wait until a Hogsmeade weekend so that no suspicions are cast upon us,” argued Harry.

“ _Can_ we kill her?” said Neville, marvelling as though he’d never thought about it (which was ridiculous, as just last week he’d expounded upon the theory that she would be particularly delicious fertilizer for the miniature Venomous Tentacula he kept on his nightstand).

“No, of course we can’t, that would be illegal,” huffed Hermione, then added, “And immoral,” tentatively, as though she weren’t quite sure whether that were true.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “So anything not explicitly illegal is all right by you?”

Hermione made a face. “Umbridge really is a terrible teacher,” she said, as though this was what drove her over the edge on this decision. “Yes. Anything legal is allowed.”

Harry grinned and caught the eyes of the others. Hermione’s definition of ‘legal’ was probably very different to Harry’s definition of ‘not illegal’, but it meant the same thing in the end, which was that Hermione wouldn’t stop any actions they take against Umbridge, and indeed might even actively participate. This was wonderful news, as between Harry and Hermione, they came up with the best plans.

Umbridge was out of a job and awaiting criminal charges by the end of the year, and she had weekly appointments with mind healer for her raving screams about ‘those four meddling demons’. When the Daily Prophet with this news came, everyone carefully avoided the gazes of Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Ron.


	18. Second Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [another comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12317546?show_comments=true#comments) and wow. this is from “do they spend time with the other ghosts? are they "those weird kids who spend all their spare time with the ghosts"? are the other ghosts in on the secret? the bloody baron is the only other ghost confirmed to have known the founders. what's his relationship with them now? do they have one?”

They weren’t really sure how they all four of them ended up at Nick’s five-hundredth Deathday party, as they never talked about it to each other, but they did. Nick looked like he was about to cry as he thanked them all for coming.

“This’ll really shut up Sir Patrick,” Nick gloated.

“You know we can’t reveal who we are to him,” Hermione reminded him warily.

“Of course you can’t,” he scoffed. “But you’re all rather famous in your own right, Hermione. The four of you banished Voldemort’s spectre and then recreated the Philosopher’s Stone last year when it was destroyed, to save the Flamels. That ought to be good enough for his Stuffiness without revealing any secrets.”

Ron spent most of the night chatting with the Baron in the corner, kept far away from Hermione, who had promised him in first year that she would curse him if he came anywhere near her, at least until after she completed her O.W.L.s. Hermione interrogated various ghosts about their lives, which they cheerfully recounted for her eager quill. Neville had muttered something about fungus and run off to haunt the banquet table with the rest of the ghosts. Harry tried his utmost to convince Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore to let Nick join the Headless Hunt, but unfortunately the ghost’s decapitated head was a particularly thick one, and he refused to see reason when Harry showed it to him.

Still, Nick had a wonderful time, which meant that everyone was as close to happy as they could be.

It was a lovely night, up until that whole thing with Mrs. Norris.


	19. Second Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wordsbetweenthelines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbetweenthelines/pseuds/wordsbetweenthelines) left [another comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12317546?show_comments=true#comments) and wow. this is from “moaning myrtle died at the entrance to the slytherin's chamber of secrets, killed by slytherin's basilisk, as directed by slytherin's descendent. moaning myrtle has a crush on harry potter. does his being the reincarnation of slytherin complicate their relationship? does she know?”

Myrtle knew that Harry was Salazar before they laid eyes upon each other. She wasn’t too fussed about it, honestly; she’d learned a long time ago about cruelty, and Harry was never cruel to her. Then he came running into her bathroom in the middle of the year, that awful blond flirt at wandpoint, and asked her about her death. Well, no one had asked that before; all the people who knew her as the little third-year Ravenclaw had been there when it happened, and no one who came after cared to ask.

So she told him, and watched as both Harry and the professor went white. She didn’t care much for the professor’s feelings, the fop, but Harry had been friendly whenever they’d crossed paths and he wasn’t one for showing his reactions.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” she asked curiously. He opened his mouth, looked at the professor sidelong, and twisted his face into a pained smile.

“I’ll tell you later, Myrtle,” he said, then hissed at that sink which had never worked, which dropped into the floor to show a huge pipe in the wall.

Later, of course, was after he’d gone and become a hero again, killing a basilisk and saving Ginny Weasley from that diary she’d tried to flush away last week.

Apparently, the basilisk was Slytherin’s monster. Harry, being the Slytherin to whom the basilisk belonged, felt a bit awkward for inadvertently being the cause of Myrtle’s death.

“Oh,” said Myrtle. “That’s all right, Harry.”

She was lying, and Harry probably (definitely) saw through it, but she was determined to get over this before too long. Harry was a good friend and it wouldn’t do for her to hate him for things which happened forty years before his birth and a thousand years after his death. Even if it was her own death.


	20. Summer between Fourth and Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lady_Skyhawk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Skyhawk/pseuds/Lady_Skyhawk) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12336743?show_comments=true#comments). this is from “I'd love to see a continuationof the Horcrux line after they all find out about the diary - does Dumbledore reveal that there are more”

They never heard about Horcruxes again from the end of second year until Harry found the locket as they were cleaning Grimmauld Place the summer before fifth year.

(Sirius burst out laughing when Harry stabbed it, and said, “I wish I had thought of that to deal with some of this rubbish. That’s brilliant. Here, you have two, give me one and we’ll make sure none of this nasty stuff gets into the wrong hands.”

Mundugus Fletcher was a very disappointed man when he went through the bags later.)

Harry brought the remains of the locket to the others that night, letting his mirror stand on his dresser so that Neville could see as well, despite his grandmother banning him from going to ‘that awful old house’ for more than a few days during the summer. (Neville and Harry’s combined birthday party was at the Longbottom manor, which was truthfully a lot less creepy than Grimmauld Place. Harry didn’t mind, though; he’d been in much creepier.)

“Is that...” started Hermione, face twisting up in sorrow.

“My locket,” Harry said grimly. “Yes. More importantly, it was a Horcrux, before I stabbed it earlier.”

Hermione looked horrified, which meant that she had researched Horcruxes after second year. Ron and Neville didn’t react much past a bit of confusion.

“That’s like what Ginny was writing in second year, right?” Ron asked.

Harry nodded grimly. “A Horcrux is a piece of soul enhoused in an object, detached from the self by an act of murder.”

“That sounds awful,” said Neville. Ron had gone white and speechless with posthumous rage.

“It is,” Harry agreed. “And the worst part is--”

“There can’t be a worse part than soul mutilation through murder,” Hermione told him angrily, apparently worried that Salazar’s odd moral code was getting in the way of compassion.

Harry rolled his eyes discreetly. “There can be, when both the diary and my locket were Horcruxes for the same person.”

The room was full of fifteen-year-olds swearing for a good ten minutes. Anyone eavesdropping would have had some trouble getting upset at them; not only because they had good reason to swear, but also because very few hypothetical eavesdroppers spoke fluent Old English.


	21. Seventh Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lady_Skyhawk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Skyhawk/pseuds/Lady_Skyhawk) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12336743?show_comments=true#comments). this is from “how does the hunt differ”

Neville stayed at Hogwarts because of the four of them, he’s the only one who wasn’t a Muggleborn, a blood traitor, or Harry Potter, and someone had to guard the students and feed information to the other three.

The others regretted it when they saw the shadows and bruises on Neville’s face in the mirror, but they knew he made a choice for them, sure, but the students came first. As it was, as it always had been.

(They knew how to hunt with magic, as they had done a thousand years ago, and it wasn’t so very difficult to expand upon the food they had gathered as they went, or stored in their packs as they prepared.)

It was easy to track down their own effects, as they had some idea of what to look for. Neville skipped a class to hunt down Helga’s cup with them and sat behind Harry on the dragon, all four of them glamoured in case one of those on the ground had very good eyesight.

Harry killed the snake when he heard it, as he could recognize Parseltongue even when he wasn’t expecting it.

And the four of them never left each other behind.


	22. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lady_Skyhawk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Skyhawk/pseuds/Lady_Skyhawk) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12336743?show_comments=true#comments). this is from “does harry get visions (I would think Salazar Slytherin knew Occlumency if it was a thing back then)”

Harry didn’t realise there was something in his head, causing all those headaches and the visions, until Nagini bit Mr. Weasley. He’d had Seer dreams as Salazar (though rarely), and it wasn’t so odd to take the view of a snake at the time.

Harry told Ron first about his vision, naturally, and then rushed off to see Dumbledore. The gargoyle leapt out of his way without him even having to think about it.

Ron spent a good portion of the four’s visit to St. Mungo’s convincing his father that going with the Muggle method against the venom from a magical snake was a terrible idea, with Neville and Hermione backing him up with similar cases from history which had not gone well. Harry wasn’t in the room at the time, as he was outside telling Mr. Weasley’s Healers the same thing.

Later, the four talked about the vision Harry had had. While it wasn’t strange for him to receive a vision from the point of view of a snake, it was strange for the vision to occur at the same time the event seen happened. Seer dreams were never in real time.

Harry began to entertain a suspicion which he didn’t share with the others. It was too weighty, too frightening, to reveal when it was only a theory.

Harry knew Occlumency, as did the others; however, it was very difficult to guard your head against something which is already inside it.


	23. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lady_Skyhawk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Skyhawk/pseuds/Lady_Skyhawk) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12336743?show_comments=true#comments). this is from “also how does the end of 5th year happen? what happens with the prophecy?”

Harry never thought he’d have to deal with fake visions along with the horribly real visions to which Voldemort subjected him.

He genuinely liked Sirius. The man wasn’t exactly a father figure or anything, but Harry had lost two fathers before he’d even managed to know them, and he felt that adopting another father would be testing his already bad luck. Both Sirius and Remus were good men without being boring, which endeared them to him.

And then Harry had a vision of Sirius being tortured, and Harry made a plan to rescue him.

Harry wasn’t stupid about it; he wasn’t called cunning for nothing, and he called the other three with his mirror before going to Fire-call Sirius in Umbridge’s office.

Kreacher told him that Sirius was gone, confirming every suspicion Harry had, and then Umbridge’s hand dragged him off the hearth.

(It was when Umbridge Crucio’d Harry that Hermione plotted her demise.)

They used Thestrals instead of illegally Apparating, as Ginny and Luna insisted upon coming along and Harry was neither in the mood to argue nor to knock them out and leave them in the Great Hall for the professors to find. (It was a close call on the latter option.)

Harry picked up one of the ‘stupid-looking glowy balls’, as he had called them, which had his name on it. The Death Eaters sat behind them, stunned and tied up with a few nice spells on them to prevent them from waking before the Aurors appeared. He pocketed it and turned to the others.

“I’m sensing this is probably a trap,” Harry admitted. Ginny and Luna gaped, and Hermione, Ron, and Neville rolled their eyes simultaneously.

“You don’t say,” said Ron dryly. “Was it the Death Eaters who clued you in, or the fact that Sirius has probably never been here in his life?”

“A mix of both,” Harry replied, shrugging. “I suppose we should wait for the Aurors or something.”

The Order showed up before the Aurors, and milled about confused for a good ten minutes before both Voldemort and Dumbledore arrived, nearly at the same time like it had been scheduled.

“I suggest running,” Harry hissed at the other students and the Order. Both groups looked like they would be stubborn about it, so he made eye contact with Hermione, who nodded decisively. She had them all Portkeyed away in no time as Harry approached the flashy duel between the Headmaster and the Dark Lord.

No one died. (Not even Voldemort, unfortunately.)


	24. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lady_Skyhawk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Skyhawk/pseuds/Lady_Skyhawk) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107747/chapters/12336743?show_comments=true#comments). this is from “what do the four think of the Order?”

“Why aren’t they doing anything?” Neville hissed. “There are people out there dying.”

“Why aren’t we doing anything, Neville?” Harry asked lazily. “There are people dying, Neville, shouldn’t we save them?”

“We _are_ ,” Neville replied angrily.

“Oh, really? Why don’t you go tell Ginny and Luna what we’ve been doing?”

“I can’t, they’re too young. They’re not ready,” Neville said, and his face went blank.

“Ah, revelation dawns,” Harry snarked.

“We’re older than most of them, that’s not an accurate example,” said Neville.

“They don’t know that,” Harry pointed out. “Look, I hate it too, but as my philosophy on life demands, I asked them to share information three times and then stopped asking when they said no to me thrice.”

“And then you cast spying spells on everything they even went near,” Hermione guessed, quite accurately. “We know you, Harry. Share your information with us.”

“As you desire, so shall it be, my Lady,” Harry mocked her, then pulled out an enormous journal and a scroll of parchment for each of them. He had prepared for this moment.


	25. Third Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ValkyrieNyght](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieNyght/pseuds/ValkyrieNyght) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/show_comments?chapter_id=12351383) saying “I wonder what the four think about the state of affairs of magical creatures. Goblins and werewolves and such.” Here it is!

“Do you mean to say,” Harry said quietly, “that werewolves are not commonly allowed work in the wizarding world?”

Lupin looked hunted, his eyes darting around the room wildly. He had been alone in his office up until a minute ago, when Harry had materialised from thin air. (He recognised the Invisibility Cloak. He hadn’t wanted to remember that.)

“You’ve been in the wizarding world three years now, correct?” replied Lupin finally. “Tell me, how many have talked about rights for _anyone_? Let alone werewolves.”

“You’re saying you need allies,” Harry surmised.

Lupin laughed, a harsh, broken little thing. “I’m saying there _aren’t_ any.”

“You’re wrong about that,” said Harry. He whipped out his wand (Lupin failed to suppress a flinch) and tapped his watch thrice.

Hermione was there within seconds, Neville not long after.

“What’s the matter?” Neville panted, as Hermione doubled over, clutching her knees.

“First of all, we should really get in shape, this is ridiculous,” Harry remarked. “Where’s Ron?”

“Taking his sweet time, apparently,” said Neville. “I take it there’s not an emergency?”

“Depends on what you consider an emergency.” Harry motioned to Lupin, who was gaping behind his desk. “Master Neville Longbottom, Miss Hermione Granger, this is Professor Remus Lupin, one of James Potter’s best friends.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Hermione gasped.

“Pleasure,” said Lupin faintly.

Neville rolled his eyes. “We’ve met. Where _is_ Ron?”

“Here,” Ron said through a mouthful of cake. “Figured if Harry had an emergency, we’d hear explosions.”

“Rude,” Harry commented. “You know I’m good with Silencing Charms. Anyway. Werewolves’ rights. Thoughts?”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. Neville and Ron grinned.

“We’re planning a movement, aren’t we? We haven’t done that in a bit, this is great.” Ron shoved the rest of the cake in his mouth and rubbed his hands together. “Leff’s do i’!”

“Incredible,” Lupin muttered, covering his mouth with his hand. He didn’t hide his worried eyes, though.

Harry smiled. It was all right; Lupin could doubt them. He’d learn.


	26. First Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [AngelofGrace96](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofGrace96) left [a comment](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/show_comments?chapter_id=13671352). This is from “Do the kids know about the room of requirement from the first time, or are they discovering it anew in this life?”
> 
> The background of this is that the four had been looking for an out-of-the-way place to duel or have private meetings for about three weeks, but all of their old haunts were either used as classrooms or offices now or were shut up by the house-elves.

“I have something to tell you,” Hermione said sheepishly, placing her quill down on her parchment carefully.

The three boys turned to her as one and raised their eyebrows.

She frowned and squinted at them. “That’s really quite eerie, do I do that too?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” shrugged Ron.

“Never mind that,” said Harry, grinning. “Do go on, Hermione, you were about to confess something? I’d love to hear it.”

Hermione threw a poisonous glare at him before scrunching up her face and glancing guiltily down at the table. “Er,” she started, “do you remember my office?”

“The one we were never allowed into?” asked Neville.

“The spells on the door once turned me into an actual griffin,” admitted Ron.

“That’s nothing,” Harry boasted. “She turned me into a _book_. It was hell trying to figure out how to cast the counterspell in that state.”

Ron and Neville both gave Hermione an incredulous, slightly fearful look.

“Never heard about that one,” Neville whispered, scooting his chair discreetly away from Hermione’s.

“It wasn’t even a _good_ book,” Harry went on, obviously aghast.

“Your priorities horrify me,” Ron informed him. “What about your office, Hermione? You had a point, right?”

“Of course I did,” she huffed. “And it was a perfectly good book, Harry, that was my favourite book at the time.” (“ _No_ taste,” Harry murmured. Hermione kicked him under the table, maintaining a supercilious stare at him when he groaned.) “My _point_. I had a few special spells on my office which could, erm, change the room and its contents to whichever setting I desired at the time. And it still works!”

Neville put his head down on the table. Ron leaned back and groaned loudly.

Harry removed his glasses carefully and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Are you telling me you created a room which will turn into anything you want?”

Hermione scrunched her nose at him. “Isn’t that what I said?”

Harry buried his face in his hands. “Yes, I suppose it is,” his muffled voice said through his sleeves.


	27. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anonymous friend [prompted me over on tumblr](http://lexiconallie.tumblr.com/post/140477504868/hey-could-you-write-dumbledores-reaction-to):
>
>> hey, could you write dumbledore's reaction to finding out harry, ron, hermione, and neville are actually the founders? because that sounds epic
> 
> Here you go!
> 
> Please consider this one alt-canon, as it does not exactly fit with the story I had in mind. In the main canon, Dumbledore never explicitly finds out who they are.

“It’s nearly summertime, shouldn’t you be packing?” one of the portraits asked officiously.

Dumbledore shushed it, but glanced at them over his glasses. “Hello, all,” he said amiably. “I have some information about the event at the Ministry, if you’re curious.”

“Nah, it all made sense to me,” said Ron.

Dumbledore blinked a few times.

Hermione began pacing the room, casting various privacy wards as though she didn’t know about the ones already cast on the room. The other three and Dumbledore watched her quizzically. It didn’t hurt to be paranoid, but this was a little strange for her.

Dumbledore glanced at Harry like Harry had all the answers to his unspoken questions.

“I’m just along for the ride,” Harry shrugged.

Hermione paused near the windows. “These don’t have curtains, why don’t they have curtains?” she muttered, then conjured a beautiful set of blue brocade curtains to hang up and draw.

Dumbledore’s eyebrows shot up. Silent, detailed conjuration was not exactly on the fifth year curriculum. Still, he’d known these four were more advanced than their classmates. This was only a small surprise.

He was in for far more surprises soon.

“We’re here to talk about something to do with the war,” Neville said, choosing his words carefully. “Or not really the war itself, but the _end_ of it.”

“There’s something we’ve been researching lately,” continued Hermione. “It was brought to our attention that you might know something about it.”

“Can Ron and I play chess while you talk?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes. “This seems like it’s going to take a while.”

“I brought a chessboard,” Ron said, holding it up. (He had not brought a chessboard, and in fact had just transfigured it and the chessmen from bits of pocket lint a few seconds ago, but it came to the same effect in the end.)

“ _No_ ,” said Neville and Hermione in unison.

“Oh, get on with it, Hermione,” Harry murmured, then said louder, “What do you know about Voldemort’s Horcruxes?”

“Too much, and not enough,” Dumbledore replied automatically, then, “What do you know of them?”

“Probably more than you do,” said Ron ruefully. “We’ve destroyed three so far -- ” (“‘We’,” Harry scoffed.) “ -- yes, _we_ , d’you remember the diadem? And we know there are more.”

“Seven in total,” Hermione added, smiling nervously. “Four left, now that three are dealt with.”

“Also, we’re the Founders,” Harry said. He gave a little wobble of his hands which oddly resembled jazz hands, not that anyone would dare tell him that. “Surprise!”

“Harry!” Hermione hissed, whirling on him.

“What? I knew you wanted to tell him! This way we get it all over with at once!”

“He looks like he’s about to have a coronary,” Neville worried. He shot a heated glare at Harry, who smiled sweetly at him. “I thought you were supposed to be the subtle one?”

“I’m the _cunning_ one, there’s a slight difference, often overlooked,” Harry corrected, slouching comfortably in his chair.

“Oh, Merlin,” Dumbledore said faintly.

“Not quite.” Ron grinned.

“We shouldn’t have dropped all this on him at once,” Hermione fussed. (“‘We’,” Neville scoffed. Harry narrowed his eyes.) “It’s too much. 

“I should have seen it,” said Dumbledore.

The four exchanged bemused glances.

“No one would have predicted this,” Neville ventured.

Dumbledore shook his head and grinned brightly. “So you’ve destroyed three Horcruxes, then?”

(“Is he just going to ignore it?”)

“Er, yes. Three.”

“Very good! We’ll need to research the others. I have an idea of what they are, I suppose you have some guesses as well?”

(“Apparently he is.”

“I hope this isn’t permanent, it’d be a bit odd for him to be this peppy about terrible things all the time.”

“ _Shut up, both of you_.”

“Yes, Neville.”

“Whatever you say, Neville.”)

“Right,” Hermione said, and smiled confidently. Knowledge was rather her wheelhouse, after all. “Let’s compare _notes_.”


	28. Seventh Year - The Last Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > I was wondering if you could write the four of them meeting up after the final battle and after harry's been revealed as not dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very long time ago (sometime last year :0 ) AngelofGrace96 prompted me with this. My apologies for taking so very long!!!

Harry had never heard Hermione curse this much in either of his lives. He’d approached his friends warily -- they’d known him for a long time, long enough to be suspicious whenever it looked like he’d lost a fight, but he’d been very, very convincing. There was no one in the world who could take multiple Crucios without even a grimace, and without having been the ‘sacrifice’ part of a blood sacrifice, Harry wouldn’t have been able to manage it either.

Ron had, as expected, practically tackled him to the ground when Harry got within range. Neville went quiet, as he always did when something bothered him. Hermione?

Well.

Hermione always got loud no matter the situation, to be fair, but when she was stressed, her language became downright foul. It was, in Harry’s opinion, usually pretty hilarious...but not when he actually felt guilty about having worried them.

He’d made a mistake, letting the people who had known him only as Harry Potter reassure themselves first. It had been almost automatic -- he knew that the others would always be there, so he made them wait. He’d forgotten that they cared this much.

(And in his heart of hearts, Harry felt happy that they were so devastated by the thought of his death. He’d always known he wasn’t good at being good, though.)

“Hermione,” Harry said, almost shouting to be heard over the litany of rude names she was calling him. Then, lower, “Rowena. I’m all right. Look, I’m alive and we’ve won. Isn’t that the best outcome?”

Hermione went silent, still fuming. Her eyes were bright, shining in that way which meant that if she let go of her anger, she’d be sobbing right now. Harry couldn’t say which he preferred.

“The best outcome would be never to have an evil wizard after your blood,” said Neville quietly.

Harry shrugged. “I can’t help that. All I could have helped is whether he continued, and that’s over, now.”

Ron squeezed his wrist, a quick acknowledgment that _yes_ , he was free now. They could live, this life.

Hermione looked across the forest, at the remnants of the battle they’d just won. “What are we going to do now?” she asked, voice trembling.

Ron lifted his head slowly, a smile breaking across his face like he had woken up from a nightmare to find that the world was beautiful, and looked at her.

“Something _magical_ ,” he said.

(A loud sound came from behind them, from Hogwarts; they winced.

“After we clean up our school, that is.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the comments for some extras!


	29. Fourth Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How would the graveyard scene have gone down?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friendly guest asked what went down with the graveyard scene -- and I will freely admit that I hadn't...actually thought about that? But it got the brain-bellows pumping, so here it is!

Harry had some very complicated feelings on the idea of fairness, and he’d be hard-pressed to express them at the best of times, let alone in the middle of a tournament event where he’d been attacked by various beasts, enchantments, and cursed competitors. (Someone would find the Stunned body of whoever it was that cursed Krum from outside the maze, probably. Harry didn’t much care whether the attacker was ever revived, but he’d have at least liked to have known who it is, and perhaps ask them a few... _questions_.) Not that Cedric was asking him to explain, exactly, but Cedric always had the faint air about him that if _someone_ could please explain what was going on, it would be very nice, thank you. He was a very pleasant fellow, but he confused easily. Harry tried not to hold it against him.

“Look,” said Harry, kindly lowering his wand, “Hogwarts winning is the best option, right? That way, no one can claim I cheated.”

Cedric rolled his eyes. “As if you would,” he said. “Anyone who knows anything knows you would never cheat, Potter.”

“I would so,” replied Harry, offended. “Didn’t I hint about the tasks to you? That’s not quite within the bounds of propriety, is it?”

“ _Cheating in other people’s favour doesn’t_ \-- oh, never mind. You’re a rubbish Slytherin sometimes, Potter.”

“I’m being very polite to you right now, I don’t deserve these offensive accusations,” Harry sniffed. He let his wounded expression fall away, then, and looked at Cedric seriously. “Diggory, honestly, it really doesn’t matter to you why I’m doing this. All that matters is that I am. Isn’t accepting help one of the core tenets of a Hufflepuff?”

Cedric was silent a moment. “No,” he said finally, “but it is something Professor Sprout encourages us to do.” He gave Harry a narrow look and tilted his head to consider his options.

“Whoever said Slytherins were stubborn has clearly never met a Hufflepuff,” muttered Harry as Cedric decided, which he said often enough for it to be a core tenet of Slytherins, actually.

Cedric pretended not to hear him and stepped up to the pedestal. “One --” he said, biting back a smile as Harry hurried to mirror him.

“Two --”

“Three!”

There was the unmistakeable pulling sensation of a Portkey then, and Harry had half a second to mentally curse at the game authorities for not warning them that the trophy was a Portkey before a graveyard swam into sight.

This wasn’t part of the Task.

“Wands out, d’you think?” said Cedric, then looked over at Harry, who had never put his wand away. “Oh. Right.”

He had just enough time to draw his wand; a voice said, “ _Kill the spare_ ,” as the tip of his wand cleared his pocket.

Cedric wouldn’t realize until later that the slash of Harry’s wand was intended to hit Cedric with the Portkey back to Hogwarts. He disappeared as a green light flew over his head -- he’d never been that close to death before.

Harry had been. Harry was shooting spells back at where the curse had come almost before he thought about it. It didn’t help much -- Pettigrew, the rat, took his human form only a foot or two away and Harry found himself bound to a tombstone and gagged, his wand lying useless on a grave marker nearby. Harry immediately began to struggle, to no avail.

When a monster rose up out of the cauldron, Harry was freed, arm still stinging from Pettigrew’s dagger. Voldemort wanted a _duel_ , in front of his loyal servants and Harry with no second nor allies around him. Which meant, Harry reasoned, he wasn’t bound by traditional dueling rules.

So he Apparated to Hogsmeade, secure in the knowledge that Voldemort wouldn’t be able to follow him, and wouldn’t want to tip his hand by pursuing the ‘duel’ later. It was a safe bet.

He rode a Conjured horse to Hogwarts, plotting all the while.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://lexiconallie.tumblr.com)!


End file.
